12. Rebuilding, From Tip to Toe (6)

12. Rebuilding, From Tip to Toe (6)

Ullance, the manager of Nottingham Forest, who was working frantically ahead of the upcoming training camp, tilted his head at today's training report.

"The name of the player who recorded 1 goal and 2 assists in the blue vs. white match is written as Danny Scott. Was this written correctly?"

At those words, Coach Daniel, who had submitted the report, hesitated before answering.

"Yes, that's correct. Coach Danny Scott said he wanted to play..."

Ullance took off the glasses he was wearing and read the report.

The game process and flow were written out systematically.

Coach Daniel was often criticized for being rather narrow-minded and lacking tactical insight, but his training management skills were outstanding.

The training report was also excellent. Thanks to it, Ullance could read the flow of the blue vs. white match without even watching it.

"The second half. It seems the play completely changed? Who meddled with it?"

"That is..."

Daniel hesitated for a moment.

But how could he lie in front of none other than Manager Ullance?

Daniel confessed in detail what had happened during the training session.

After hearing the whole story, a strange light flickered in Ullance's eyes.

"A 4th division manager, trying to recruit Danny Scott as a player, personally intervened?"

Ullance let out a hollow laugh.

"With players he saw for the first time today, people he hadn't even spoken to, he implanted his tactics and made them play?"

"...Perhaps luck played a part, don't you think?"

Ullance clicked his tongue, his eyes sharp. Daniel's shoulders slumped.

"My friend, I told you to study tactics a bit. You think there's luck in football? Football is a sport of cause and effect. It's a field where results come from a process."

"..."

"If a shot results in a goal, it's the effort and process of the player who practiced that shot. If the ball bounced around and went in, it's a series of training sessions that inevitably led the players to be in that position. All of that leads to the result. Because of luck? Then instead of watching the game from the bench, why don't you open a Bible and pray?"

At those truly sharp words, Daniel's back became damp with sweat.

He could only grit his teeth and utter an apology.

Ullance tutted and stopped his scolding.

Rather than berating Daniel right away, curiosity about that manager had welled up.

'It doesn't seem like he used any particularly great or unconventional tactics.... Strangely, the game flowed their way. Daniel didn't just say it was luck for no reason.'

It was a picture that made the viewer feel that way.

'This, it feels as if he created a framework and made the players move automatically.'

No matter how systematic the report was, it was impossible for that picture to be drawn in detail.

Rather, it was Ullance who was remarkable for discerning the flow just by looking at the report.

More than anything, he looked at Danny Scott's record.

"1 goal, 2 assists..."

Perhaps sensing the significance in that voice.

Daniel cautiously asked.

"Are you perhaps considering revoking the coaching offer and letting him play as a player...?"

"Tsk, it's regrettable, but we've already recruited a new player for that position. There's no place for Danny Scott."

But Ullance somehow felt a hesitation.

'If he has the intelligence to handle a free role, it means he can follow the manager's instructions well, no matter what position or role he's given.'

A fleeting thought that, as a backup, he might still be a decent option.

Regrettably, that lingering thought had to be erased as if washed away.

"Manager, I apologize for the coaching offer, but I wish to continue playing as a player. I will go to Mansfield."

"..."

Those were the first words Danny Scott uttered as he entered the office, his eyes shining brightly.

Ullance, who had been looking at Danny Scott with unreadable eyes, said abruptly.

"A one-year contract extension. How about it?"

"!"

"Manager!"

Danny Scott's pupils shook violently. Coach Daniel, who was behind him, was so aghast he shot up from his seat. But Manager Ullance remained unshaken.

"This season, we will aim for promotion in the Championship. It will be a fierce battle. That honor of Premier League promotion, will you try for it?"

Danny Scott didn't answer immediately. Daniel couldn't understand this situation. A manager offering a contract just because he scored 1 goal and 2 assists in a blue vs. white match, and a fool who actually hesitated upon hearing it!

Danny Scott thought for a long time before answering.

"How do you intend to use me, Manager?"

"We have to make good use of that head of yours. Rather than rash instructions, letting you play as you wish on the field would be the best way to utilize your talents."

At those words, Danny Scott's expression became one of relief, as if he had ended his deliberations.

"Thank you for everything until now, Manager."

"This is..."

Ullance smiled bitterly. In truth, he had more than enough backup players. Among the players he was about to recruit, there were more who could play in that position. Yet, Ullance, with a final lingering attachment, had called him. Because just 2-3 years ago, he had been a player who seemed capable of doing something, anything.

"Perhaps you prefer that manager over there more?"

"...Rather than preferring him more, I just felt that, for once, I'd like to play under such a manager."

"!"

A small surprise arose in Ullance's eyes. Wasn't he such a smart fellow that even among coaches, he was an avoided player? There were often times when the level of coaches didn't meet the players' eyes. For Danny Scott, it was a common occurrence.

For such a player to say he wanted to play under a certain manager.

'I'd like to see his face once and have a chat.'

An unknown, subtle feeling of jealousy.

However, he magnanimously raised his hand.

Danny Scott grasped that hand firmly.

"You've worked hard. I support your new start."

"Thank you."

"Though there's a month left on your contract, you may participate in Mansfield's training from tomorrow."

At Ullance's final act of consideration, Danny Scott bowed his head.

After Danny Scott left, Manager Ullance looked at the report.

"4th division, huh."

Mansfield Town Manager, Yoojin Fischer.

"I'd like to see him once, but it'll be difficult to meet. We'll be going to the Premier League next year, after all."

......…..

"Really, the manager doesn't show his face at all, isn't it too hard to see him?"

A strange atmosphere flowed among the players.

It was because of their new manager, who hadn't shown his face even once.

Of course, it wasn't that they hadn't seen his face at all.

Because they had a squad meeting.

However.

"Yes, I am Yoojin Fischer. The new manager. Don't even think about skipping training."

The problem was that this was the entirety of the meeting.

No players had properly grasped what kind of person the manager was.

The media was the same. The local media, and the local people, had heard the news that a new manager had been appointed, but no one knew the detailed circumstances.

Perhaps it was natural. It had been a long time since the club's media or marketing staff had all left the team; whom could the reporters contact?

In the end, the sole communication channel was Lily, but Lily herself was currently absent due to surgery.

So, reporters contacted the players, but.

"Isn't the atmosphere among the coaches unusual?"

"They're saying if we don't show up for training, there will be fines or something, they're being really strict about it."

"And also them threatening that they won't stand by if the internal atmosphere leaks outside."

The squad was restless due to the two coaches' changes, which were too different from usual.

And not long after, a rumor spread.

"They're saying players will be released?"

"Again?"

"The guys who were going to transfer have all left already, haven't they?"

"They say the reason the coaches are acting like this now is because of the release list. If you step out of line even a little, you're out."

"!"

The squad was greatly agitated.

In fact, the players remaining now, unless they were staying voluntarily, were resources that other teams didn't particularly look at.

It was difficult to go to another team, and even if they did, it was a foregone conclusion that they would have to accept lower wages than their current ones.

Therefore, the players couldn't help but react sharply to the talk of a release list.

At first, they thought it was a rumor.

However, as Coach Allov began individual interviews with the players, it soon became a fact.

Players' instincts were sharp. They even noticed that the two coaches were each selecting players for release. As this atmosphere continued, training didn't proceed properly either.

The team's captain, Mr. Mansfield.

Jenkinson didn't like this atmosphere.

More than anything, releasing players.

'How many are they planning to send out? There won't be any players wanting to come to our team. With such a thin squad, how do they plan to get through the league?'

The manager's indifferent face surfaced in his mind.

The man who had spoken to him with a strangely sharp tone.

"Ugh, everyone's in an uproar, well, it's pretty funny that players are scared of being released, though."

Just then, a young player approached with an easygoing smile.

"Herald."

"They say the release list is true, yesterday Alenski and the lads had a drink, and everyone was begging him not to release them."

"..."

"Tsk, really, why didn't they improve their skills sooner? Anyway, foolish things. Instead of working on their skills, they just gang up and whine that it's not fair? That's why even when they come to the 4th division, they can't find a team to go to. Coach Alenski was so embarrassed he couldn't say anything and just kept drinking, I felt sorry for him."

"Are you alright?"

"Me?"

Mac Herald revealed his snaggletooth and smirked.

"You don't think I'd be on the release list, do you? I'm this team's ace, aren't I? Of course, the captain is the center, but the team's ace is me, right?"

Mac Herald laughed as if it was absurd.

"Would they be crazy enough to try and sell me? If I'm not here, they won't survive in the 4th division, they'll go to the 5th, won't they? If the manager has eyes, he can't do that, no matter how much of a rookie manager he is. Ah, maybe I don't know. Since no one wants to manage our team, maybe a really terrible manager has come. Then I admit it. I don't want to play under some hopeless fellow who doesn't even know my value either."

Herald laughed unrestrainedly.

A record of 3 goals and 11 assists in the 3rd division, right before relegation.

He was the team's top attacking point contributor and a key player.

Therefore, he was unfazed by this atmosphere.

"Well, the captain is a youth product of the team and has the nickname Mr. Mansfield, so he won't be on the release list either. Besides, he didn't join those, factions, did he?"

"But why didn't you transfer? I heard you got a lot of offers."

"Well, that's... rather than affection for Mansfield, everyone here only looks at me, you know. The fans, the players, the teammates."

"..."

"Because I really want to receive attention, you see. Haha."

Herald laughed nonchalantly.

"That aside, the manager is also amazing."

"..."

"He barely shows his face, yet he's completely controlling the team, isn't he? Captain, you've talked to the manager, right? How is he? That person?"

Jenkinson couldn't answer immediately. How much time had passed? He barely managed to open his mouth.

"He was a man whose two eyes were difficult to look at."

With various words and impressions chaotically tumbling in his mind.

It was the only impression he could utter.

...

"How's the atmosphere?"

"It's chaotic. The team is seething."

At Max's words, I took off my jacket, draped it over a chair, and sat down.

"Looks like Allov and Alenski are doing a good job."

"Doing a good job?"

"It must be chaotic because they're properly drawing up the release list. It's usually the ones who should be leaving who make the most noise."

"!"

"The ones who know they're not bad enough to be on the release list are quietly observing. The louder it is, the better."

At my words, Max shook his head back and forth.

And yet, his eyes gleamed.

"Where did you learn this?"

"Learn what?"

"This right now, you're trying to gain control of the players, aren't you?"

I didn't answer and just looked at Max. Max laid out his reasons for thinking so.

"Starting with entrusting the release list to the coaches. Weren't you trying to make them recognize the distance between the players and the coaching staff?"

"Say more."

"No matter how much they consider them fathers, or whatever, big brothers, they're just coaches. You made them feel the fact that they are different from themselves, the players, by bringing it to the surface, didn't you?"

To be honest, I was slightly impressed.

Because Max had read my thoughts to some extent.

He wasn't just buried in tactics; he had started to see the team.

Indeed, being in the position of chief coach, he had to. Max was adapting excellently, whether he knew it or not.

"Is that all?"

"What, you mean there's another intention, surely not?"

His horn-rimmed glasses slid right down to the bridge of his nose.

I let out a laugh and looked at him. As expected, he was still a bit green. Though it was a huge improvement.

"Do you know what's most dangerous in this club?"

"Is there anything not dangerous right now? From the poor finances to the thinness of the squad composition..."

"Collective insubordination. Or the players' unconscious shirking of duties."

I said, reading through the squad report.

"What if they band together and engage in collective insubordination or unconscious shirking?"

"...!"

"Insubordination in a team is more frequent than you think. Even in massive teams like Real Madrid, friction between the manager and the squad often leads to a decline in performance."

"That's..."

"Whether it's the manager's reputation, skill, or even personality, this kind of thing is especially frequent in cruder teams."

And currently, Mansfield Town was, looking at the entire English 1st to 4th divisions which were considered fully 'professional leagues,' the crudest team.

Max couldn't answer.

"You'll be blocked at every turn. Whether it's tactics, reformative measures, or even just changing fine regulations. Dissatisfaction will circulate among the players, and movements to voice opinions collectively will emerge."

"Wait a minute, isn't dissatisfaction natural in any group? Shouldn't we compromise with that dissatisfaction and move forward...?"

"Compromise?"

I scoffed.

"I don't compromise, Chief Coach."

"!"

"Compromise, yes, what's good is good. But do you think that process will be easy?"

Max couldn't speak.

The process of aligning and conceding on each other's dissatisfactions and shortcomings.

It was an arduous task even between family and lovers.

"Endless tug-of-war, dead-end repetitive conversations, repetition of futile words that lead to no conclusion."

If necessary, it had to be done.

Even if it meant doing that, shouldn't the team be run?

"But we don't have time."

"...!"

"We don't have the luxury to care about or spend time on such nonsense. Compromise through mutual concession after a tedious tug-of-war? Don't make me laugh."

I looked at Max and said precisely.

If Max became a manager in the future, he would have his own command style.

But right now, he was solely my chief coach.

Therefore, even he.

"For me, there is no such thing as compromise."

Had to follow me.

Silence flowed. I averted my gaze and continued.

"The fact that the coaches are drawing up release lists is already spreading. They've come to feel that the coaches are not on their side. But do you think they can afford collective insubordination or shirking?"

It was a crude team. Therefore, I approached it with crude logic.

"Why would the players want to give a pretext for their own release?"

When it came to controlling the squad, there was nothing more dangerous than insubordination where the players united with one heart to reject the manager.

I had, in a sense, taken a preemptive measure to prevent that.

"They won't even dream of shirking or insubordination. They'll be struggling just to avoid being released immediately."

"...Then, Yoojin, there must be a reason why you're deliberately not showing your face?"

"What reason do you think it is?"

Max's eyes gleamed.

"An unseen enemy is less offensive than a visible traitor...?"

"Correct."

Max let out a sigh and took off his horn-rimmed glasses. He rubbed his closed eyelids.

"What, on earth..."

"At least to the players, I'm a ghost manager. I've been busy here and there, so it's been hard to show my face, but I intentionally didn't approach the players."

Since most of them were players who would be leaving soon anyway.

"Rather than animosity towards an unseen manager, resentment towards the coaches who are drawing up release lists is bound to arise."

This way, I drove a wedge between the coaches and the players.

It wasn't a complete split. But it was enough to create just one crack in their solid solidarity. That was my desired objective.

Furthermore.

Team rebuilding inevitably invited backlash from the players.

The resentment for all of that.

Was shifted onto the coaching staff.

After that, I just needed to gradually take control of the squad.

Max, realizing this series of events, looked at me with curious eyes, as if looking at a monster.

"Weren't you just a youth coach?"

Just two months ago, I mean.

Max uttered those trailing words very softly.

I shrugged.

"It's all part of the plan. We'll have to see if it actually turns out that way."

Knock, knock.

"It's Allov, Manager."

And the final intention.

Rebuilding didn't just happen to the squad.

Furthermore, it didn't just mean selling and making new recruitments to reorganize.

Sometimes, you repaired and reused.

"Let's see if the coaches follow my words."